


11:49 pm

by side_stickie_note (lost_stickie_note)



Series: brevityworks [1]
Category: X1 (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Modern Little Mermaid AU, producer!Seungyoun, singer!Wooseok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:00:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24539653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_stickie_note/pseuds/side_stickie_note
Summary: If a songbird doesn't sing, is it really a songbird at all?
Relationships: Cho Seungyeon | Seungyoun/Kim Wooseok | Wooshin
Series: brevityworks [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1799431
Comments: 6
Kudos: 46
Collections: Challenge #1 — Fairy Tale Thoughts





	11:49 pm

**Author's Note:**

> Was thinking about what fairy tale I wanted to do, and I thought a modern spin on the Little Mermaid would work really well for Seungseok. :) Short, but was fun to write. Enjoy!

“Good work, Wooseok.” The praise is loud in his ears, and Wooseok smiles back at Seungyoun who’s giving him a thumbs-up from the other side of the glass, slipping his headphones off so that they rest on his shoulders. Wooseok feels the glow of satisfaction wash over him as the recording of the day finishes, the last of the songs for his first album.

Three months of tireless work.

And he’s packing, ready to leave the studio, when there’s a hesitant voice from behind him. “Wooseok?” Seungyoun’s looking at him with a deep pooling gaze, hands shoved into his pockets, shoulders hunched, head ducked with an air of embarrassment. “Would you like- to get a drink with me maybe?”

“It’s nearly midnight, Seungyoun.”

“So?” Seungyoun gives him a smile that somehow manages to be shy and impish all at once.

He should have known that he’d end up getting drunk off Seungyoun.

“Mm, thank you.” Wooseok gratefully accepts the cup of hot tea from his boyfriend, Seungyoun plopping down in the spot next to him, pulling the blanket over to cover his legs also, another late night at the studio to perfect the next album. “You’re a lifesaver.” He lets out a satisfied hum as the honey soothes the back of his throat.

“You coming down with something?” Seungyoun nuzzles a kiss into his neck, nearly jostling the cup of tea out of his grasp.

“Just a little hoarse.” Another sip. “Not a big deal.”

“As long as you’re okay.” Wooseok makes a small noise of protest as Seungyoun presses a sloppy kiss to his cheek. “I’ll be done soon.” Wooseok curls his legs up under him on the couch, rolling his eyes as Seungyoun tucks him in with the blanket, the drowsy wait as Seungyoun puts on his headphones and continues to work.

The hoarseness doesn’t go away.

Wooseok ends up seeing a doctor, a specialist, Seungyoun clutching at his hand nervously, and the entire time, all Wooseok thinks about is how Seungyoun’s hand is too clammy, fingers intertwined tightly with his and holding on as hard as he can. The news starts off with ‘I’m sorry’ and it’s only the second time Wooseok has seen Seungyoun cry. Vocal cord nodules. They should go away after six or seven months of rest and inactivity, give or take, two to three months if he’s lucky.

Wooseok isn’t lucky.

After five months, the next album is delayed.

At seven months, Seungyoun gets a new siren to sing for him. A new artist. And though Seungyoun assures him that Wooseok is his forever-muse, it still sends a stab of jealousy through him when he sees Seungyoun’s name on someone else’s work. Nice and glossy. Wooseok even gets the chance to meet his so-called replacement, attending the celebratory launch party hanging on to Seungyoun’s arm, quiet as his boyfriend reaps the praise for his efforts, Seungyoun excitedly spotlighting his newest album creation.

Wooseok ends up whispering the ‘I love you’ to Seungyoun silently as his boyfriend falls asleep in their bed, cheeks red from drinking, hair messily over his forehead.

He wonders if Seungyoun even hears him.

At ten months, Wooseok can’t bear to be in the studio anyone, even as a casual bystander, or as Seungyoun’s boyfriend bringing him late-night food to eat, pretending it doesn’t make him want to cry each time he watches Seungyoun work on a song without his voice. But all he can do is sit there quietly, swallowing in large gulps to keep the tears at bay, not making a sound.

“Maybe we should take a break.”

Break, break, break. It’s the only thing Wooseok hears, loud and rhythmic like a beating drum in his head.

He’s surprised that the words are coming from him, not Seungyoun.

It’s the third time he’s seen Seungyoun cry.

And Wooseok finds that for the first time in a long while, he can speak but has nothing to say at all.

The bookstore isn’t too bad – a tiny thing squeezed on to the end of a quaint little street that boasts a few specialty restaurants, one particularly good dessert shop that sells the best crepes Wooseok has ever tasted, a music store with songs always leaking from their open doors, a cat café that Wooseok always looks in the window of. A nice short walk away from his apartment, his way to work giving him a happy morning most days. It’s a quiet place, just shelves stacked high with books, full of hushed tones and rustling pages. Wooseok prefers it that way, finding that his voice can settle into a new home as well.

Wooseok doesn’t expect to hear it, but when he does, it stops him dead in his tracks, the familiar melody winding out of the music shop while he’s on his way home in the evening, a voice that feels like a distant memory. His voice. It takes him a few moments to place it, the song from his first album, the third in the track list. Seungyoun had spent a week having Wooseok record and re-record, by far Seungyoun’s favorite composition on the album and Wooseok’s too, though he always lied in interviews saying it was the lead single instead.

It’s the first song Seungyoun had given him.

And suddenly, Wooseok discovers how it feels to intensely miss someone.

He waits until he’s home, snuggled up underneath a blanket, before dialing his voicemail, 29 messages, Wooseok purposely saving them after receiving the messages, the thought of deleting them unbearable. One for every week since he’s last seen Seungyoun, sent at the same time. Every Tuesday at 11:49pm. The exact time Seungyoun had first asked him to have a drink together.

A deep breath before listening to the first one, the sound of Seungyoun’s voice making his chest tighten, his heart clench. It takes him almost two hours and a half box of tissues to finish.

Wooseok struggles to find his voice when he calls.

“Hi, Seungyoun.”

**Author's Note:**

> Twitter: [@sidestickienote](https://twitter.com/sidestickienote)  
> CuriousCat: [@sidestickienote](https://curiouscat.qa/sidestickienote)


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